


Princess('s) Bride

by AlphaStarr



Series: In Which Gerome Is Secretly Crying Under His Mask [3]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Chrom/Olivia Royal Family Dynamics, Coitus Interruptus, F/F, Inigo Thinks He's Clever But He's Not, M/M, Meta
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-11
Updated: 2015-05-11
Packaged: 2018-03-30 00:45:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3916918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AlphaStarr/pseuds/AlphaStarr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>"My name is Inigo of Ylisse. You killed my sex life. Prepare for yours to die!"</i>
</p><p> </p><p> </p><p>In which the entire royal family is Not Straight, Kjelle's impressive muscles could put a horse's to shame, and, largely through each others' interventions, nobody gets laid.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Princess('s) Bride

**Author's Note:**

  * For [equiuszahhax](https://archiveofourown.org/users/equiuszahhax/gifts).



> Part of what I hope shall be a long-running fic exchange.

Inigo woke that morning in an unusually good mood... and truly, that was saying something, because mornings were _never_ a good thing in Inigo's book.

His eyes creaked open and he discovered immediately two probable causes for this good mood-- the first being that it was still quite dark out, and probably rather cloudy outside. The second was that for the first time in a long time, Inigo hadn't awoken to an empty bedroll. Probably it was really just the latter, but Inigo was never quite the best at thinking through his morning haze.

With a humming groan as he turned over, stretching the stiffness of sleep from his body, the prince cuddled up to Gerome's back, spooning him. Though it was almost summer, lovely and temperate, rough winds shook the darling buds of May... as was eloquently put by one of Inigo's most favorite poets. The point of the matter was that he was cold, and Gerome was warm, even better than the hand-stitched quilt that covered their bedroll-- really just two of the standard issue bedrolls pushed together, but so entwined in swathes of quilts and knit covers that it was really one bed.

Inigo affectionnately nuzzled the back of Gerome's neck, bangs of soft blue brushing against his nape. It was incredibly difficult to behave so amorously when Gerome was awake, so he wanted to take advantage of the rare opportunity while he could. It wasn't exactly that Gerome hated affection (quite the opposite, in fact), but rather that he was lately very, very cautious of their surroundings. Something about not wanting to be caught in a compromising situation... Inigo hadn't really been paying attention, too preoccupied with undoing the ties of Gerome's incredibly complicated Valmese pants. He'd heard horror stories in taverns about the impossibility of removing brassieres-- but, he thought, brassieres couldn't _possibly_ be worse than Gerome's pantaloons.

Burying his nose in Gerome's unspiked morning hair, clean from the prior evening's bathing, Inigo inhaled the scent of no-nonsense soaps, his natural oils, and just the slightest hint of wyvern saliva. It was nice like this, when the musk of wyvern spit wasn't overpowering everything else. He'd ask Minerva to stop licking Gerome's hair spiked, but Inigo was pretty sure she wouldn't stop grooming him even if Gerome himself asked and Inigo really, really, really didn't fancy being wyvern food anytime soon.

There was just one more thing he really wanted to do before Gerome awoke. The wyvern knight was, quite secretly, very sensitive on the back of his neck, and though Inigo was too comfortable to switch sides and not quite strong enough to roll Gerome over (the man was obstinate even in his sleep!), the very least he could do was give his lover a pleasant awakening.

He pressed his lips to the base of Gerome's head, applying a gentle suction to the spot. They traveled downwards until he reached the bump of the first vertebra, which he drew a heart around with his tongue. Clever and romantic, he thought, feeling Gerome stir awake.

"Stop," the wyvern rider grunted, furrowing his brows, even half asleep. His first coherent thought was probably about how weird that felt without his mask. "That tickles."

"Gerooooome~" Inigo purred in a singsong. He kissed the back of Gerome's neck again. "G'morning."

"Mmmph," Gerome's shoulders tensed. "Quit it. Tickles."

Inigo laughed then, breathy puffs of air coming ghost against Gerome's nape once more.

"Nnnghm," Gerome stretched and Inigo felt himself begin to stiffen as he watched Gerome's extremely impressive shoulder muscles stretch away their sleepiness. The wyvern knight turned just enough to make eye contact with his lover, speaking with the special kind of irritation saved exclusivley for people he loved, "I told you to quit it."

"That one, though, was an accident," Inigo answered, leaning over to kiss Gerome's mouth and trail his hand over a firm chest. No matter how debonair and dashing he might have thought himself, Inigo simply wasn't brave enough to do something so bold as an entire kiss while Gerome was asleep.

Gerome made a soft, growly-sounding noise in the back of his throat as Inigo kissed him with closed lips, eyes fluttering back shut as a strong hand rubbed sensually over his pectorals.

"Is... is this okay?" Inigo pulled his mouth from Gerome's to ask.

"Yes," Gerome answered, sliding his roughened palm down to rest on one of Inigo's hips. "Can I...?"

"Gods, yes," Inigo pinned his lower lip between his teeth.

He was just about to slip a hand beneath Inigo's nightclothes when a firm voice called from outside the tent.

"Gerome, where _are_ you? Don't tell me you're still asleep!" Lucina's voice rang impatiently. "You can hardly train seriously if you're planning on missing Frederick's Fitness Hour... you know as well as I that it's the most important training session of the day."

"By the gods... is it truly so late?" Gerome sat up, alarmed. He hollered back, "I'm awake!"

"Well, you'd best hurry," Lucina informed brusquely. "The first session begins in fifteen minutes."

And, though fifteen minutes was perfectly sufficient for a quickie, Inigo was hardly going to have sex with Gerome with his sister standing right outside his tent, clearly intent on waiting there until Gerome emerged or she was at risk of running late herself.

"It's okay," Inigo whispered with a false smile. "You'd better get going before Lucina kills you."

"Don't even joke about that," Gerome sighed, reluctantly pulling himself from the sheets and rubbing his eyes before shedding his nightclothes and pulling on his armor. "See you."

And with a woosh of his tentflap, he was gone, leaving Inigo alone in Gerome's tent and not completely certain how he was going to sneak out if a third of the camp was already awake for Fitness Hour and breakfast. He pulled the quilt around himself, feeling quite cold in spite of the warm weather... or, perhaps, because of his loneliness.

The prince released a quiet whine. It just wasn't fair! Despite spending near every night with his boyfriend, Inigo hadn't gotten laid in over a fortnight. By now, he was aching for a firm manhandling and, though he was pretty sure Gerome would never say so out loud, his lover had to be, too. But every time he tried to start something, Gerome was too tired from training or paranoid about places they used to have liasons or being called away to do some sort of task by the Princess of Ylisse herself.

Inigo was starting to miss kisses stolen in the barracks' stockroom, handjobs exchanged in secluded clearings, heated frottings in the convoy, actually getting laid in his own damn tent.

And he knew exactly whose fault it was.

Lucina, the wielder of Falchion, every Wyvern Rider's nightmare.

Lucina, the bane of the battlefield, who more oft than not could single-handedly fend off an enemy's advance.

And, of course, Lucina, his _sister_ , who'd appointed herself as defender of her brother's honor and purity... oh, if only she knew how very thoroughly Inigo had lost his purity! Her destruction of the enemy's advances had nothing on the way she destroyed all of Gerome's. Inigo didn't quite understand why he was so scared of her, but he did know one thing: he'd have to do something about it soon, or else he just might never have sex again.

* * *

Inigo may not have been the most observant person in camp, but he did notice one thing: romance. It seemed that fighting side-by-side, defending each other from the foe's onslaught had the tendency to bring two people together in mysterious ways, and if he happened to know two people had fought beside each other several times in a row, it was a pretty safe bet that they'd be caught making out somewhere within a few weeks.

It was probably the dumbest, but most consistent way to find out who was dating who.

And so, the next time they were in battle, Inigo kept an eye on his sister in between making sure none of the archers were able to even get _close_ to Gerome. And Lucina, as he suspected, was feverishly blocking attacks as if the world depended on it... blocking attacks meant for Kjelle.

Kjelle, as in possibly the strongest person in their entire army.

Kjelle, as in the terror of all men who so much as looked at her the wrong way.

Kjelle, whose defensive skills were utterly unparallelled, who wore armor so thick and heavy she wasn't likely to even _notice_ being hit by most foes.

At first Inigo thought he'd gone completely mad, but as he ran through a swordsman who probably wasn't half a match for Gerome's axe, he understood. It was far beyond the mere coincidence of fighting together once or twice, by now. Though he wasn't absolutely certain, Inigo was pretty sure Lucina was at least _close_ to getting in Kjelle's pants, if not there already. 

Perhaps a taste of her own medicine would make his sister less interfering in his love life!

Well, hopefully, at least.

* * *

"You fought well in the last battle, Lucina," Kjelle commented in the barracks, putting away her freshly polished armor. "I don't think I've ever seen you in such form."

"Thank you, Kjelle, I'm pleased to hear that from you," Lucina smiled, twiddling the cloth she'd been polishing Falchion with between her fingers. "You, after all, train harder than all of us... it's truly a compliment that you believe I fight well."

"Ha!" Kjelle laughed, flexing her impressive biceps. "I bet between the two of us, we could take on the entire Plegian army!"

"Ah... perhaps that's a bit much. I imagine we'd run out of stamina sooner or later," Lucina scratched her cheek shyly, perhaps the one mannerism she'd picked up from her mother. "And even the greatest strength means nothing if I cannot protect those I care for."

"Pfft, I can see your problem there," Kjelle lifted her round shoulderguard over her head, and her sleeveless undershirt lifted just enough to expose her abs. " _This_ , after all, protects itself."

"A-ah, yes, I see," Lucina's eyes widened, her eyes darting between Kjelle's muscled stomach and her shapely arms. She sobered, "Though, mostly, I was referring to my family... I worry about them, sometimes. Father's not the most cautious of people, and Mother trained more in dancing than fighting... and, by the gods, Inigo has the traits of both..."

"We'll protect them," Kjelle set her armor down, lavender-gray eyes igniting in determination as she grabbed Lucina's hand. "Together! I'll be the shield at your back and the sword by your side. Well, the side that isn't already holding Falchion, at least."

"I would be honored, Kjelle," Lucina smiled softly, placing her other hand on Kjelle's shoulder and starting to lean in towards her, as if preparing for a kiss. "Together."

Kjelle's breathing hitched and a faint note of color came to her cheeks. She, too, leaned in, and both of their eyes began to flit shut...

"RISEN IN CAMP!" Cynthia shrieked, running into the barracks, scrambling for her armor and lance. "ALL TO ARMS!"

As if stabbed, Lucina and Kjelle broke apart-- partially in embarrassment at getting caught, partially because there were _Risen in camp_.

"I'll be there!" Lucina exclaimed, quickly clipping on her shoulderguards and slinging Falchion over her shoulder. "There's no time to waste!"

"Right," Kjelle nodded with firm determination, slinging on her shoulderguard and fumbling with her gauntlets. "I'm right behind you, Lucina!"

It took but a few minutes for them to dispatch the foes, half-finished by the time they got there. They were weak... unusually weak. Too weak to have been a planned attack sent specifically by the Grimleal... but the tacticians, just the other day, had been arguing about the lack of army funds, and how they couldn't afford any more Reeking Boxes.

"Gods, that was weird," Kjelle groaned, the moment lost... and her armor redirtied. "They could've at least been a challenge. Anyways, Lucina, I have to go clean this again... I'll see you at dinner, yeah?"

"Er, right," Lucina answered, eyes darting to her Father, who was waving to her enthusiastically in the distance, hopping up and down in a bid to get her attention. Her Mother was practically dying of embarrassment beside him. "I should probably go rescue mom. I'll... see you then."

It seemed, as of late, that she could hardly get any time alone with Kjelle-- certainly not enough time to make her feelings known. How anyone had managed to get together with anyone in this army, much less propose marriage, was a complete mystery to her. Then again, not everyone was the ruler of Ylisse's daughter/babysitter. As much as she loved her Father, Lucina ultimately had to admit that the man was too naive for his own good, trusting his own safety without a second thought. And, of course, right when she was about to confess her feelings-- how could she _not_ after how Kjelle defended her in battle?-- a surprise Risen attack had to occur.

"Lucina!" Chrom grinned as she walked over to him. "You'll never guess what happened."

"If you say I shan't, then I believe you," she nodded solemnly. "What happened?"

"Well, as it turned out, we actually had a spare Reeking Box in the cooking tent... I guess someone thought it was a box of salted fish or something," Chrom chuckled. "Inigo was on cooking duty and opened it by mistake. It was nice to see him training hard for once, but it would've been nicer if it hadn't been a complete accident! No harm, no foul, though. It's fortunate that they were the weaker kind."

"Ah, but now the kitchen's a bit of a mess..." Olivia interjected, scratching her cheek. "I was hoping that, perhaps, while we're getting that cleaned, you and I could walk to the nearest village and see if maybe they have anything they could sell us? The food supplies are mostly okay, but, um, a small portion of them were destroyed when the box was opened. I guess, really, we're just lucky Risen aren't much interested in food."

"Oh, of course, Mother," Lucina smiled hesitantly. "I'd be glad to help you. Shall I retrieve us a basket or two?"

"Um, no..." Olivia fiddled with her hair and then looked away. "If you could bring a small horsecart, though..."

"A... horsecart?" Lucina's smile dropped. "Just how much was destroyed!?"

"Ah... food-wise, a few boxes of salt fish, some unripened tomatoes, and a case of turnip preserves," Olivia winced. "But, um, we were getting low to begin with, and plus, every ladle in the kitchen was destroyed. Inigo was unarmed, so..."

"I see," Lucina's face set itself in a stern expression. "And dinner tonight?"

"Priam, Morgaine, and Gerome are leading a hunting expedition as we speak," Chrom reassured her. "I'm sure between Morgaine's cleverness, Priam's skill, and Gerome's scouting, we'll have meat enough for everyone in no time. Though, to be honest, I'm still not sure how Inigo mistook a Reeking Box for tonight's dinner... he's awfully unobservant. I wonder where he got it from?"

"I'm glad to hear that, at least is taken care of. Mother, shall we go?" Lucina asked, pointedly ignoring the comment about Inigo's inheritance. "It won't be until late that we'll return."

"Yes," answered Olivia, visibly relieved that her daughter hadn't turned down the request. "Thank you, Lucina."

* * *

It wasn't until they were halfway to the town, leading the horse on foot and alone on the road, that Olivia turned to her daughter... her daughter from the future, the grown-up version of the baby she had in Ylisstol. It would be difficult to speak to her, she knew, but the topic was unavoidable. Something wrong was being done, and Olivia needed help to figure out what was going on.

"Lucina, I... there's something I have to tell you," she said, fiddling uncomfortably with her scarves.

"Are you cheating on Father with Panne?" Lucina asked, completely blasé about the whole subject. "Because I'm pretty sure the whole camp knows about that, except for Father."

"W-what!? No!" Olivia went bright red, spluttering. "Well, yes, actually, but that's not..."

"Mother, I want you to know that I do not normally condone infidelity," Lucina interrupted. "But in this case, I can understand... if only because I am fairly certain Father's... interests... are oriented in the other direction. If your union was but a necessity to create an heir, I cannot fault you for that."

"I... thank you Lucina," Olivia blushed, trying to hide her face in her scarves. "I... we tried to tell him, really, but he just didn't understand! I'm so sorry I didn't tell you sooner..."

"Father has the tendency to... take things a bit out of context," Lucina put it as lightly as she could. She explained, "When I tried to inform him that Inigo was having relations with Gerome, he asked me if they were secretly cousins."

"That... _does_ sound like him," Olivia agreed. "But, um, speaking of Inigo... that's actually what I wanted to tell you about... I'm really, really sure that there weren't any Reeking Boxes in the food stores! Cherche and I did an inventory last night after dinner because we were running low on supplies, and we triple-checked the boxes-- quadruple-checked some, even! And I'm completely sure we opened every box in there. I might've made a mistake, but Cherche is so meticulous; she _always_ catches them."

"So... what you're trying to tell me is that somoene put a box in there on purpose? Why would anyone do that?" Lucina wrinkled her nose, and then remembered that she lived in the same camp as Henry and Lissa, possibly some of the best pranksters in Ylisse. She amended, "Maybe more importantly, who would have the _means_ to?"

"Well..." Olivia shifted her eyes to the side nervously. "There's, uh, someone who always comes back with some gold they find on Risen..."

"Inigo," Lucina frowned. "And he was the one who opened it in the kitchen to begin with, wasn't he?"

Olivia gave a small nod.

"But we'll be out until evening because of his... his... I don't even know," Lucina exclaimed. "What purpose does destroying half the kitchen serve?"

"I, um, think that maybe that was what he was trying to do... get people away from camp until late evening," Olivia scratched her cheek nervously. "Either that, or he really, really hates salt fish."

"Nobody likes salt fish," answered Lucina, shaking her head. "But still, I can't see Inigo destroying it on purpose... not without any other cause."

"Lucina," Olivia looked down to her hands before looking at her daughter once more. "Promise me you'll talk to him? He seems so intent on keeping secrets from me lately, I just don't know what to do... he hasn't so much as looked me in the eye for weeks and weeks."

"I swear upon Falchion, the blade of my forefathers, that it shall be done," Lucina vowed gravely. Thinking on her own interrupted evening plans (she'd probably be back too late to so much as say hello to Kjelle at dinner, much less spill her heart to her), she had a few questions for her brother herself-- as much as she loved him, every younger brother had his faults, and Inigo was hardly an exception.

"Um... that's a bit serious for just a small conversation... isn't it?" Olivia bit her lip.

"No," Lucina shook her head, a soft smile coming to her face. "It's exactly the right vow for a request from the Queen of Ylisse... and, more importantly, my Mother."

And Olivia smiled back.

* * *

 

But Lucina didn't run into Inigo that night, nor the day afterwards. She was beginning to regret antagonizing Gerome so much (but only a little bit), as every time she demanded Inigo's location of him he was only capble of eking out two or three words before excusing himself to attend another training session, his face beet red beneath his mask.

Gerome, she thought, had always been a terrible liar.

Of course, there were... other reasons... she hadn't exactly had the time to find her brother. Important reasons, Lucina thought, her lips sucking a red mark into Kjelle's neck.

"Hmmm, you can suck harder, you know," Kjelle smirked, slipping a hand down to squeeze Lucina's pert rear. (If there was anything that consistently ran in the Exalted line, it was a fine booty.) "I'm not going to break from one little hickey."

Lucina had been right the day of the Risen attack-- she hadn't had the time to speak to Kjelle, but mostly because Kjelle had cornered her and brusquely insisted they stop pussyfooting around each other. Anything else she might've said that evening was forgotten in a haze of sloppy, unpracticed kisses and clumsy gropings... thank Marth himself that Kjelle favored butts over bosoms, though. Probably literally, as it had most likely been passed down from his generation.

"Forgive me. I've been known to poorly estimate my own strength," Lucina answered, brazenly pulling Kjelle in for something a bit rougher, her thigh sliding in between Kjelle's legs.

At least, until a very familiar, decidedly masculine voice grunted from outside the tent, "Kjelle, I am finished with borrowing your training armor... where do I leave it?"

Kjelle pulled away for a moment, "You can just leave it ouside my tent, Inigo."

"I... can't get it off without help," he complained, and Kjelle sighed and looked to Lucina.

"Can't believe you're even related to him," she shook her head, reluctantly extricating herself from Lucina's embrace. "Especially if he needs help getting the lightest weight set off."

"It's fine," Lucina tried to smile, the mood completely dissipated at her brother's presence. It wasn't at all like him to want to train, much less by borrowing the most difficult set of training equipment in camp... she herself only used it once a week, for strength-building.

Five minutes passed, and then ten minutes passed, and Lucina began to get worried. She stood, carefully peering through a gap in the tent's flaps, only to find Kjelle trying to wrestle Inigo out of the armor, where he'd become hopelessly, hopelessly tangled amid the weights and extra armor settings. Kjelle looked up, grimacing at the mess Inigo made, and then quickly jerked her head-- a clear indication that Lucina should probably leave now. It would probably take a while to fix this.

Several days later, Lucina was beinning to get suspicious. Extremely suspicious. It seemed every time she and Kjelle were trying to attempt intimacy, her brother would interrupt them-- barging into the supply closet for a whetstone or armor wax just as she was just about to work up the courage to touch Kjelle's boobs, loudly rummaging through the convoy to interrupt a hot session of secret midday frotting, even dragging her to cousin Owain's campfire storytelling when she was about to sneak into Kjelle's tent.

It wasn't as if she and Kjelle hadn't been discreet. Romance, after all, was a distracting topic, and even moreso when it was the Princess of Ylisse's love life in question. She was certain that, if word ever got out, it would be camp gossip for at least a week. As naturally very private people, they'd both been less than public about their relationship.

But then, how did Inigo know just when to interrupt their moments of privacy? And how, too, did he manage to keep from talking to her, just as she was about to ask him what he thought he was doing?

It was beginning to get frustrating.

And so, Lucina went to the one place she knew Inigo would show up reliably every evening. She hated to use this as a last resort, but there was no other place he'd be guaranteed to go.

"Gerome," she swept into his tent with all the bearing of the princess she was. "I need to borow your tent."

"I--" Gerome froze where he was, and Lucina frustratingly realized that it was her brother pinned under him, clearly the victim in this case, cheeks high with flush and clothes mildly rumpled. Being groped, she would have guessed, or possibly less-than-chaste snuggling, hardly the type of things her baby brother should be getting involved in at this age.

"I need to borrow it," Lucina's eyes narrowed at him. "Now."

Gerome scrambled to stand, grabbing a pillow to cover his tented pants and using his other hand to cover his burning face, "I'll... just go check on Minerva."

He exited at a walk, but a speed-walk. Lucina shot a look of venom at him as he passed. He'd hardly look so guilty, she thought, if he hadn't been doing anything morally dubious to her sweet, innocent baby brother.

Speaking of whom...

"Inigo," she turned to her brother sharply. He, too, held a pillow over his lap, undoubtedly trying to protect his modesty.

"Lucina," he blushed at her. "W-what are you doing here?"

"I swore upon the blade of Falchion to speak to you, and so here you are," Lucina frowned at him. As much as she loved her brother, a kid brother was still a kid brother and she still had to make sure he didn't do anything dumb. "I need to know why you haven't spoken to Mother lately!"

"Lucina, please, can we not talk about this now?" Inigo groaned, turning even redder. "It's just... she said something that really embarrassed me and I'm not over it yet."

"What could be so embarrassing you can't forgive your mother for it?" Lucina demanded.

"Gods... just, please," Inigo tried to cover his face. This was possibly the most embarrassing conversation of his life, he thought. "How would you feel if Mom tried to give _Kjelle_ sex advice??"

"I'm sure I wouldn't mind, because it would imply I was having any sex. At all," Lucina clenched her teeth. "Speaking of which... I know it can't be a coincidence you keep showing up nearly everywhere I go, and vanishing before I can ask you anything. I'd appreciate knowing what's going on."

"Fine!" cried Inigo. "You want to know what's going on? My name is Inigo of Ylisse. You killed my sex life. Prepare for yours to die!"

Lucina's eyes narrowed at him, "How can you say that? Gerome practically wrested the last bit of innocence you had away from you! I've no doubt he would have coerced you into some other debasement if not for my interference. I cannot allow you to submit before someone insufficient; how can he protect you, after all, if he can't even protect himself?"

"W-what? You think he _coerced_ me??" Inigo spluttered. "There wasn't any coercing going on at all! Maybe I _enjoy_ debasement, okay? And besides... he's totally built, and definitely strong enough to protect everyone he cares about. I _love_ him, Lucina!"

"You're too young," she scowled. "He's taking advantage of you! And perhaps you can't see it, but I'm positive... and I won't rest until I see proof that he'll take responsibility!"

"Fine!" Inigo scowled back. The two siblings stormed out of Gerome's tent in a huff, swearing vengeance on each other.

And, for the nth night in a row, neither of them got laid.

* * *

**Bonus Scene**

* * *

 

"Inigo," Shivana swept in, her tactician's robe rippling behind her like a cape. She was a tall woman, taller than even Chrom, hair the color of her silver axe and probably extremely mad and _oh shit,_ thought Inigo, _I should have just run as soon as I saw her._

"Uhm, hey... there, milady," Inigo wiggled his fingers at her from where he was sweeping up the shards of his hopes of ever getting laid again. "What brings you here this lovely evening?"

"Listen," she growled, seizing him by the unbuttoned collar of his shirt and hoisting him into the air (what was with this army and all the super-strong-super-scary ladies?), "I didn't do three months of battle placement planning just to have you interfere with my greatest strategy _now_."

"I-- what?" Inigo squeaked, the broom falling from his hand in surprise. "What are you--"

"Look, let me explain this to you simply," Shivana hissed. "You put two people next to each other on a battlefield, they get married, and bam! Kid from the future shows up. Now, Kjelle has great speed and defense but shit luck, and Lucina has amazing luck and speed but shit defense. In order to get a kid with well-rounded stats, it is imperative to the success of this army that they fuck. Understood?"

"Wha??" Inigo sputtered. "I don't even-- what do you _mean?_ "

"Whatever you're doing, stop it," Shivana dropped him on the ground and Inigo clattered against the broom. "Or else I'll S-Support Gerome to Laurent instead."

And with another sweep of her robe, she was gone.

"Wait!" Inigo called out, still confused beyond comprehension. "What do you mean by 'stats?' Do you mean my dumb battlefield theory's _right_?? And what the heck's an S-Support!?"


End file.
